Embers Remain
by GingerSuperWhoLocked
Summary: Just months after the supposed end of the Hunger Games, it is reinstated. This story follows Atrell, the daughter of Katniss and Peeta Mellark, through her own journey in the 95th Hunger Games.


Today marks the beginning of the 95th annual Hunger Games. Mom and Dad always worry about me being chosen as tribute, though they don't have much reason to. They both survived two Games, so we live well enough that there has never been any need for me to enter my name extra times for the tesserae. Though I am seventeen, my name has been entered for the Games the least amount of times possible for my age.  
Of course, Aunt Prim was chosen for the 74th Hunger Games despite her name only being entered once. That was the first year that Mom and Dad were in the Games. Mom took Aunt Prim's place. Dad was chosen though. And secretly, he had been in love with Mom for a long time and at some point during the Games, Mom realized she was in love with him too. They say that's why they were both allowed to be victors.  
They're legends as far as the Games go. They rebelled against the Capitol without even meaning to. The president of Panem at the time, President Snow, was furious. Now, our president is Paylor.  
Even if I am chosen, I may not be much, but I do like my odds. There're rumors throughout District 12 that the children from the other districts, even Careers, are scared of the possibility of me being chosen and having to be thrown into the arena with me because of the legacy left behind by my parents. I have not only Mom's excellent hunting skills, but also Dad's frosting skills which both would definitely come in handy in the Games as Mom and Dad proved. I just hope for my sake, that those rumors are true… If they are, I have a plan.  
As I stumble out of bed, I begin the yearly ritual of readying myself for the Reaping. Mom already has one of Grandma's old dresses laid out for me. We always wear her dresses. Though I can't deny that they're beautiful, I don't know why. Mom and Grandma don't have the closest or best mother-daughter relationship. Mom's very cold to Grandma on those rare occasions when we make a trip to District 4 or Grandma comes to 12, though she claims their relationship has improved from her youth. She says it has to do with my Grandfather who died years before I was born—years before Mom was even in the Games—and Aunt Prim who died when she was only thirteen. She won't tell me exactly what it was though. "One day, though," she always says, "I will tell you. That day is just not today."  
This year it's a light green, knee-length sundress; very simple in design, yet very beautiful, with a dark green ribbon around the waist. It accentuates my curves—something not many people in District 12 have ever had and this is the "new and improved" District 12, rebuilt from the ashen remnants of the District 12 that Mom and Dad grew up in; they say it's better than it used to be, but looking at the state of everyone around me, I can't see how it could be much worse.  
It's not because I eat much better than anyone else here, I have hollow days and days, sometimes weeks where there's nothing to eat just like the next person—though I admit they're fewer and farer between than most peoples'.  
I have Mom's body-type, which just happens to be slender but kind of curvy. The green is in stark contrast with my raven black hair and aqua colored eyes. We don't know where my black hair came from. Mom's is brown and Dad's is blonde. Maybe from Grandpa. I've never seen a picture of him though and no one really talks about him much.  
I walk into the kitchen to find Mom, Dad, and Uncle Gale in there talking—my brother, Zade is living with Grandma in District 4 since he inherited her and Aunt Prim's affinity for helping people and being naturally medically talented; a talent that somehow skipped mom and me entirely. Zade asked to move with Grandma when he was thirteen, but Mom and Dad wouldn't allow it until this year when he turned fifteen. They all smile at me as I walk into the room. "You look beautiful," they all say in unison.  
"Good morning, sweetheart," Mom begins with a sweet, but sad smile.  
Dad joins in, "You're beginning to sound like Haymitch, sweetheart," he winks at mom, and they both laugh.  
"Shut up, Peeta." Mom turns to me and makes a circular motion with her finger, signaling me to turn around so she can do my hair. "Honey, can you finish the bread while I do Atrell's hair?" She's done it the same way for every Reaping. She says it's the way her mother used to do her hair for the Reaping. Again with the mysterious things from Grandma. "Perfect. Now, just one more thing." Mom leaves the kitchen and walks into her room.  
Once she's gone out of earshot, the tone of the room grows serious. "Are you ready for today, Atrell?" Dad asks, sounding worried as ever.  
"Ready as I'll ever be, Dad." I stepped forward and took his floury, dough-covered hands in mine. "Dad, even if I am chosen—"  
"Don't talk like that!"  
"Dad! Just listen. Even if I am chosen, you and Mom have equipped me with the skills necessary for me to win. I don't want to. I'm terrified to. But I have come to terms with the fact that I may have to, and you and Mom and you, Uncle Gale, will have to, too. If I have to, I can do this. I will do this."  
Uncle Gale's face turned to stone and he looked away, furrowing his brow. "I knew we should have run away…" he spat under his breath. He sounded angry, sad, resentful, hurt. I pulled him into a hug. He held me tight and whispered in a broken voice, "I know you'll be fine…you're too much like your mother…and your…father…to not be…" And for the first time I understood. I understood the tension between Dad and Uncle Gale. I understood why things never seemed quite right between the two of them. Mom had had to choose between the two of them and she chose Dad. Uncle Gale surely resents him for it, and probably mom too a little bit, though I'm positive he would never admit it.  
He even moved away for a while and I'm sure Mom and Dad being together is a big part of the reason. A reason he would swear up and down didn't exist.  
"Here we go!" Mom walks heavily into the room, staring longingly at a gold mockingjay pin. Her token from her first Hunger Games. She pins it to my dress and grabs my hands, taking a step back. "You're beautiful." The clock sounds and her face grows grave. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. "Time to go." Mom pulls me into a tight hug and I can feel a tear drip onto my ear. I squeeze her tighter.  
"I love you, Mom. Don't worry, I'll be fine."  
She steps back and looks me in the eye. "I know you will be." She releases her grip on my arms and the four of us begin the walk to the square. It feels almost like a death march. And for at least one unlucky youth from District 12, it is.  
When we get to the square, Mom and Dad say their goodbyes to me and head up to their seats on the stage along with Haymitch, the mayor, and Effie Trinket. Effie was Mom and Dad's escort for both of their games but she left for a long time after the rebellion. This is her first year back. I just hope that history doesn't have a way of repeating itself. Uncle Gale kisses my forehead and takes his place among the crowd, leaving me to sign myself in and stand with the rest of the seventeen year olds. I stand on my tiptoes trying to look over to the crowd of eighteen year olds to try and locate Uncle Gale's son, Huck, who has been out with his mother all day.  
Uncle Gale isn't really my uncle, he's my Godfather, but I call him uncle. Huck and I have grown up together and are like two peas in a pod. We share everything with each other. We're the best of friends. Though for me it's turned into something more than a friendship, and I can't help but wonder whether or not he feels the same. Sometimes it seems as though he shares my feelings, while other times it seems like he doesn't even know I exist.  
Finally, I spot his dark brown hair, his hard sculpted face. His body is thin, but built. He and Uncle Gale do a lot of hunting and other work together. Many times we all go hunting together, Uncle Gale, Huck, Mom, Dad, and me. Well, Dad tags along and paints us hunting. Aunt Audrey has never minded us hunting, though she doesn't like doing it herself, so she is always more than willing to stay home with their two year old daughter Basil while we're all out.  
Huck is searching through the crowd too and I realize he's looking for me as our eyes lock and a grin spreads across his face. We wave to one another, then put three fingers to our lips and hold them out to each other.  
The crowd silences as the ritual begins: the mayor, the video, and finally Effie with her ever predicable, "May the odds be ever in your favor," in her clipped, foreign Capitol accent. "And now, to choose this year's tributes!" she grins from ear to ear with her bright blue lipstick that matches her hair. "Ladies first!" She reaches her hand into the ball that contains the names of every girl in District 12 between the ages of twelve and eighteen.  
My own is in there six times. Though I know many whose names are in there dozens of times. I fear for them more than I do for myself. Huck's name is in the boy's drawing twenty-four times. I'm more afraid for him than anyone else. I don't know what I would do if I ever lost him. "This year's girl tribute is…Atrell Mellark! Ooh! The daughter of the victors of the 74th and two of the few survivors of the 75th Hunger Games, ladies and gentlemen! This year should be a real treat!" My heart sinks as I walk toward the stage, but I maintain my composure. "Come on up, dear!"  
Once I'm on stage, Effie walks quickly over to the ball containing the boys' names. "And finally, the boy." She pauses, sifting through the names as she grins at the crowd. She pulls out a name and I can only hope it's not Huck. "Huck Hawthorne!" I thought my heart could sink no lower into the pit of my stomach. I was dead wrong. It dropped all the way to the floor when I heard Huck's name. "Come on up dear, and join Atrell!" She's waving him up onto the stage.  
He makes his way slowly to the crowd with the exact same expression I saw on my own face, reflected on the giant screen. He joined my side and we immediately linked hands. Looking out into the crowd we saw the faces of our parents. It was clear that they were trying to show no emotion, but it was equally clear that they were deeply saddened and afraid for us.  
After the ceremony was over, Huck and I were led off to the Justice Building by Peacekeepers to say our final goodbyes to our families and loved ones. Naturally, the first to come in were Mom and Dad. Immediately mom scooped me into a tight hug. "You'll be alright, I know you will," she whispered in my ear.  
Dad cupped my face in his hands, looked me in the eyes and said just two words. "I know." And know he did. I had no idea until right now that he knew about my feelings toward Huck. He knew exactly because he had been in the same situation himself, twenty-one years ago. He and mom. Star-crossed lovers. Though, as it stands, I, like Dad was with Mom, don't know if Huck returns the feelings or not. I nodded to show that I understood. Mom looked confused. Dad kissed my forehead right as Peacekeeper came bursting in the door.  
"Time's up! Out!" Rather than waiting for Mom and Dad to exit on their own, he grabbed them by the back of Mom's dress and Dad's shirt and dragged them out.  
"We'll see you on the train!" Mom screamed desperately through the door after it was closed. That's right. Mom and Dad are mentors; along with the ever pungent, alcohol-soaked Haymitch Abernathy.  
Next was Uncle Gale, Aunt Audrey, Basil and…no, not Huck…not this time. Their family was incomplete and it looked wrong. "Hi," I said quietly, feeling guilty that there was a possibility that I may have to slaughter their son, my best friend.  
Uncle Gale seems to know what I'm thinking because he says, "We don't blame you, you know. You couldn't have known."  
Aunt Audrey's eyes are red and puffy. They just came from seeing Huck. She nods in affirmation as another tear streaks down her face. She can barely keep her grip on Basil who is reaching for me and shrieking, "Atell! Atell! Want Atell!" We all give a weak laugh at this. The poor girl has no idea what's going on…that in a matter of weeks she may very well lose both her "cousin" and her brother. I take Basil in my arms and we hug each other tight. She giggles her two year old version of "I love you", "Awa-oo!"  
I smile and kiss her cheek. "Awa-oo too, baby girl. You take care of your Mommy and Daddy for me and brother, okay?" I give her a sad smile and hand her back to Aunt Audrey, and Basil seems to suddenly understand, at least in part what's going on. She knows Huck and I are going away.  
"Atell sad?" She stares into my eyes with her bright green ones. "No!" She starts to cry.  
"Time to go!" The Peacekeeper barges in and drags them all out. I catch one more glimpse of Uncle Gale's face as he turns to leave and we exchange a look. Once the heavy wooden door slams shut, I can still hear Basil's panicked screams getting taken farther and farther away from two of the most important people in her life. She's always chosen Huck and me over everyone else if she has the chance. Now, she may lose us both…  
A myriad of other family and friends come to see me, but no one else really matters and I slip into a state of numbness. I expect yet another friend or distant relative to make their way through the wooden door, but instead it's the Peacekeeper here to quickly and discreetly usher me out to the train where Huck and I are reunited once more.  
There's a silent exchange of glance, and before either of us know it we're entwined in each other's arms. He put a firm, but gentle hand on the back of my neck, burying my face in the crook between his neck and shoulder; his other on the small of my back. My arms are wrapped around him, my nonexistent fingernails clawing at the back of his light blue dress shirt. Together, we look like spring.  
The moment is interrupted by an overly peppy Effie Trinket. "Hello, hello! Ah, welcome! We have some big, big, big days ahead of us!" she clapped. We immediately detach upon her entrance…intrusion, rather, a blank stare settles on Huck's face, a glare on my own. "Come on! Sit! Sit! Eat!" She gestures at a table that we hadn't even noticed was there. It's embellished with all sorts of Capitol goodies. Mom and Dad didn't do the food justice in their descriptions. Foods of every shape and color imaginable. Some completely unimaginable. I should be excited, but for some reason I'm not. Maybe it's because either Huck or I or both of us will soon be dead.  
We take our seats next to each other at the table and stare at the food. Neither of us says a word. "Go on! Eat! Eat!" Effie says, flailing her arms about excitedly, gesturing toward the food. "I'm sure you must be starving, Huck!"  
Huck snaps his head up to stare Effie in the face. "Just because I live in the Seam doesn't mean I'm starving all the time," he spits.  
Effie looks hurt. "That was very, very rude!"  
Huck calms a little, but maintains a hard expression. "So was assuming that I'm just a poor boy from the Seam who has never had more than a scrap of spoiled bread for a meal in his life." He sets his silverware on the table—slams is more like it—and stands up. "Where is my room?" An Avox, who I didn't know was there, steps over to his side to lead him to his room. The door slams behind him.  
The too pleasant Effie that we all know and love is back. "Well, your mother and father will be joining us a little later! So, are you excited?"  
"For what? Being thrown into an arena of imminent death, in which I may potentially have to murder my best friend? I'm thrilled."  
"Oh, don't be so down about it! It will be simply fun, fun, fun!"Some people never change.  
The Avox, who returned from taking Huck to his room, had just barely walked through the door before I slammed my own things down. "My room," was all I said. The Avox girl nodded and led me to my own room. When we reach the door I ask, "Where is Huck's room?" She points to the door directly across the hall from my own. "Thank you." She looked a little nervous when she nodded and turned to exit. I forget that they're not used to that.  
I take a step inside the grand room and take a look around. Just as luxurious as they appeared in dad's paintings. It's obnoxious. The air reeks of some sort of flowery fragrance that I can't seem to place. I pull open one of the many drawers and pull out a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I walk across the hall to Huck's room and knock on the door. When I got no answer I turned the knob and gave the door a shove. He must be in the shower. I hear the water running.  
My face probably turns bright red as I knock slowly, quietly on the bathroom door. "Come in," Huck calls through the door. I turn the handle slowly and enter the bathroom. Now I know I'm blushing. God, I hope the Capitol can't see this.  
I keep my eyes to the floor. "Um, Huck? It's me…I just—"  
"Hey, Atrell." He stepped out of the shower completely naked. "Can you hand me a towel?"  
"Uh, here." I grabbed a towel off of the rack and handed it to him without so much as glancing at him. My cheeks feel like they're on fire. Ha, how ironic. Mom is Katniss, the girl on fire.  
"I don't mind, you know," he laughs. My head snaps up, but I still refuse to look at him, especially since I wasn't entirely sure what exactly he meant. "You seeing me naked." It seems he knew what I was thinking.  
"Oh," was the only response I could muster. I was looking back at the ground when suddenly I was staring at Huck's…uh…feet. My eyes were frozen open in embarrassment for a moment before I squeezed them shut. He laughed at me, wrapping the towel around his lower half, and I muttered "Sorry…"  
What he did next was completely unexpected. He pulled my chin up and kissed me. It didn't last long. My eyes flew open to look upon Huck smiling, clearly pleased with himself. Suddenly, my eyes were everywhere. My jaw dropped as I met his gaze again, completely speechless. Again, he laughed. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."  
"No, I…" my head was dizzy as I tried to come up with the right words. "I didn't…You…Can we…" he stifled my incessant mumbling with another kiss. He knew what I was trying to say before I did.  
Before I knew what had happened I was against the wall, my hands pinned by Huck's by my head. My heartbeat was increasing rapidly. He pulled my shirt up to my ribs and stopped. "Is…this okay?" I nod. "Say stop if I go too far." I nod again, staring at him with hungry eyes. He pulls my shirt the rest of the way off. Slowly, his hands make their way down to my jeans and undo the button and zipper. They fall down to the floor and I step out of them.  
Huck is kissing me all over; my mouth, my neck, my chest. His hand finds the clasp of my bra and unhooks it with such dexterity that if I didn't know better, I'd have thought he'd had a lot of practice. However, as I do know better, I know that he's never touched a girl in any way that wasn't strictly platonic. My underwear finally slips to the floor and joins the heap of my clothes.  
I suddenly stop. Huck looks horrified. "What's wrong? What did I do?" he asks in a panic.  
I hear that the shower is still running so I think that my words should be hidden well enough from Capitol ears, but I whisper in his ear anyway, just in case. "No, no, no…" I shake my head vigorously. "Can the Capitol…?"  
"No," he replies with a bit of a smile. "I asked the Avox girl. The bathroom is the one place we're safe." I sigh with relief. Huck resumes kissing me but pulls away slightly to open the shower door. With his body no longer crushing against mine, his towel falls to the floor, landing with my clothes. We stumble into the shower, the hot water instantly enveloping us both with the scent of lavender, the steam rolling off our shoulders.  
Suddenly, we're startled back to reality by a loud knock on the door to Huck's room. Huck bolts for a bathrobe and whispers to me. "Stay in the shower. I'll tell whoever it is that I just got out and you just got in." He kisses me on the forehead and rushes to answer the door. I decide I might as well actually bathe while I'm already in here so I dispense some shampoo into my hand and lather it on my scalp. I'm listening carefully to the conversation taking place outside. I think it's Haymitch.  
"Why isn't she using her own?" Yes, definitely Haymitch. That suspicious, teasing tone is impossible to mistake.  
"We were hanging out. Want to spend as much time as possible together before…" Huck pauses. I press my ear against the shower door to be sure I don't miss a single word. "She didn't want to be alone. We agreed that she would sit out here while I took my shower, then we would switch." He sounds convincing enough, but knowing Haymitch, he probably knows it's a lie but I'm so very thankful that he leaves this observation tacit. I smile a little. He may be a drunk, but he's almost like an uncle to me and even though he doesn't have to, he sticks his neck out for me. Just like he did for Mom and Dad so many years ago…so many Games ago…  
"Make sure you're both at dinner in twenty minutes. You know Effie." They both laugh a little. I quickly step out of the shower and towel off, putting on a bathrobe identical to Huck's. As I step out of the bathroom I'm tying my hair in a loose ponytail. I don't think Haymitch expected me to leave the bathroom until we was gone. "Atrell. Dinner in—"  
"Twenty minutes, I know. I could hear from the shower. Will Mom and Dad be at dinner?" I plop down on the bed. Almost too squishy. I sink down what feels like probably a good foot.  
He nods. "Yes, sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy will be there," he teases. I just roll my eyes and glare.  
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach as Huck slides his arm around my waist, but in a good way. I can feel that my face is bright red again. He kisses my cheek. Why is he doing all this? Does he really feel this way or is it all an act? "We'll be to dinner on time."  
"Alright, you two. I'll leave you to finish…getting ready." He winks at us and I direct my gaze to the ground and keep it there until I hear his footsteps disappear down the hallway.  
I look at Huck for a moment trying to read him, decipher his intent in his actions. I'm euphoric, but kind of doubtful. I recall a "game" that Dad told me about once that he used to use to try and figure things out after he had been hijacked by the Capitol. He still has to use it sometimes, but only every once in a great while. Real or not real. I decide to give it ago with Huck. "Be honest," I tell him. He nods, waiting for me to continue. "You like me. Real or not real?"  
"Real," he says, clearly confused.  
"You like me as more than just a friend. Real or not real?" I say to clarify.  
"Real."  
"You…" I pause and bite my lip. This might be going too far.  
"Go on," he gives me a look meant to encourage me, but it just makes me a little woozy with embarrassment.  
"You love me…Real or not real?"  
"Real. Very real." I nod and try to digest the short but huge conversation that just occurred. I feel a little faint and I suppose I begin to sway because Huck grabs my shoulders steadying me, stopping the world from rocking so much. "What's wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't—"  
"No, I'm fine, just…" I close my eyes trying to make the words come out. Huck can see that this is proving to be difficult and he doesn't make any attempt to usher me along. "I never thought you…"  
He puts a hand on my cheek. I can feel his warm flesh burning against my own. "My turn." He steps closer and rests his forehead on mine, staring into my eyes. "You've loved me for a long time but you didn't think I even noticed, much less felt the same. Real or not real."  
My voice cracks and I choke a little as I say "Real," so quietly it's almost a whisper.  
Huck pulls me in close, wrapping his arms around me and stroking my hair. He breathes me in. A small chuckle escapes his lips and he whispers, "I thought the same thing. I loved you, but didn't think you knew how I felt, and figured you only saw me as a friend. I've loved you since we were little, but that love has evolved into so much more." He takes another deep breath before kissing my forehead and untying the strip of cloth that held my robe on. "We better get ready." He winks and strolls over to his drawers to pick out clothes. I just stand there staring, watching him get dressed. After he pulls his shirt on, he laughs and asks, "So are you going to dinner naked? You know, I don't think it would look very good for our image—especially to your parents—if you walked out of my room naked."  
I'm suddenly aware of the fact that my bathrobe fell off after Huck untied it and I am currently standing completely exposed in front of my best friend…boyfriend? What exactly are we now? "Oh…" I mutter and head off to the bathroom to put my clothes back on. I look in the mirror at the mess of raven black hair that falls over my shoulders and decide to put it up in two messy buns on top of my head, if only I could find some hair bands. Perhaps in my room. After all, Huck is a boy with hair that is long-ish, but not nearly long enough to put in a ponytail.  
As I walk out of the bathroom, Huck is standing in front of me, examining me with a seemingly puzzled look on his face. His brow is furrowed and his lips are pursed. I've never really looked at his face, studied it the way I am now. His eyebrows are neat, almost looking like they were perfectly shaped by a prep team, but completely natural. His pale skin is free from blemishes of any sort and the perfect amount of freckles covering his cheeks and nose. His lips, plump, but not overly so like those Capitol puppets who look like they have those balloons that are used for balloon animals stuck on their faces where their lips should be. He speaks but I'm too absorbed in my study too catch what he said.  
"Sorry…what was that?"  
His facial expression remains unchanged though I notice that one elbow is now propped up on the other arm with his hand under his chin. "I said I think you look better without the clothes." Though I know this is meant to be a compliment, anger threatens to take over.  
I purse my lips for a moment then say, "I see." Even though it made me a little bit put off, I can still feel my cheeks burning bright red. Oh, how I despise how easily they blush. "I'm going to go look for hair bands in my room. You can come if you want."  
"Sure," he smiles. Once again, he's right by my side, his arm around my waist. He takes his free hand to turn my head to face his and kisses me lightly on the lips. "Let's go." Right as he reaches for the door handle he pauses. "Wait. I want to do this properly. Make it official, as it were." I can't even begin to imagine what he means as he walks over to a drawer and pulls something small out of it. Before I have time to think, he's in front of me, down on one knee holding a ring out to me. One he probably got from the Hob. Simple, but beautiful. "Atrell Mellark, will you be my girlfriend?"  
He makes it seem like a proposal, but I know it's just meant to be cheesy and cute because of the playful smile on his face. His eyes light up so bright, you'd think they were stars. "Yes, Huck Hawthorne, I will."  
He shakes his head "no". "You're supposed to say, 'I do'!" he teases me.  
I laugh. "We're not getting married yet."  
"Well, that's a good sign," he grins. "The word 'yet' implies that you intend for it to happen."  
He winks again and I roll my eyes. "Fine. I do."  
"May I now kiss the…uh…girlfriend?" We both laugh so hard that tears come out of our eyes. Once we've calmed down enough to function I look at the time. 6:25. We have five minutes to get to dinner. We rush across the hall to my room, dig around in the bathroom drawers, and quickly find two hair bands.  
In less than three minutes my hair is up and we're entering the dining car. Effie looks thrilled that both of us weren't only on time, but early. Even if only by two minutes. "Wonderful! You two are here just in time!" Mom and Dad are seated at the table, Mom's nubs of fingernails digging into dad's hand. Dad's smiling, but he looks sad. Big surprise there. Haymitch is seated next to Mom, drinking. Of course. "Sit! Eat! We'll discuss the next few days over dinner!"  
I walk slowly over to Haymitch and take his drink without a word. He splutters a bit, clearly confused by the sudden removal of his beverage, but when he sees my face, he gets the hint even in his drunken stupor. It's time to quit the crap and sober up. The Games have begun. He waves an Avox over to his side as I take my seat next to Huck, across from Mom, and orders a water and black coffee. Huck's hand grips mine under the table. I can feel the pulses in our wrists pounding together as our heart rates increase.  
No one speaks for a few minutes; Effie just sits there grinning at all of us. I decide to get the conversation going. Now, I'm in Games mode. "Tomorrow, we arrive in the Capitol and have the tribute parade and our interviews, yes?" It used to be that the tribute parade would have been tomorrow and interviews would have been the next day, but in order to make things faster paced, they are now both on the same day; the parade in the morning; the interviews in the evening.  
"Yes," says Haymitch. Mom closes her eyes, probably trying to suppress the overwhelming depression that comes with remembering her own experience in the Games.  
"What are our tactics? What will each of us do to get sponsors?" I ask coldly.  
Haymitch give a drunken giggle. "Well, you could follow in your parents' footsteps with the whole 'star crossed lovers' bit." He winks and I feel my cheeks burning. "And who knows," he takes a sip of his coffee. "People might actually believe it with you two. You have me convinced."  
I want to retaliate. Unfortunately I have my mother's temper. I remain calm though. "They won't allow two victors again. The last time it happened it started the rebellion. They couldn't risk it happening again. And with my parents' history…we'd never make it into the final eight. At least, not both of us."  
"But you are star crossed lovers from District 12," he protests. "You're the real deal, whether you want people to know it or not. And let me tell you something, sweetheart: neither of you are the greatest at hiding it." Huck and I immediately release our hands and look down at the table, avoiding everyone's gaze. "Paylor isn't Snow."  
"She's as good as!" I snap. "The rebellion was supposed to end the Hunger Games! Oh, we thought we were safe for a few months, but then June rolled around and the districts found themselves right smack in the middle of another! Panem is just as bad, if not worse than it was when Snow was president! We are no better than them!" I'm standing, screaming at the lot of them. I've stabbed a knife into the table.  
I hear Effie gasp, her wide eyes staring at the knife. "Mahogany…" she whispers. None of us can help but burst out laughing. We are all familiar with the story of Mom's little outburst during which she stabbed a mahogany table with a knife and Effie yelled, "THAT IS MAHOGANY!" Effie looks a little hurt, but is good humored.  
I regain my composure and yank the knife out of the table as I take my seat again. "So," I begin, "Does anyone else have any ideas."  
Huck chimes in, but not with what I think he'll say. "I think Haymitch has something." I risk a glance at Haymitch who wears a smug grin on his face. Huck chooses his words carefully. "True, Paylor did bring back the games only a matter of months after they were supposedly canceled for good…" he pauses, avoiding eye contact with anyone. "But…we all know that she is far more…forgiving. And we know that she is willing to bend and change the rules for the sake of entertainment. Even if that means two victors. She also wouldn't take it personally or see it as an act of rebellion. In that sense, she's far more laid back than Snow was. She's not afraid that her precious, seemingly perfect world that is actually flawed beyond comprehension will fall apart simply because the sixteen year old star-crossed lovers from District 12 decide to take Nightlock together so that neither of them has to kill the other.  
She isn't as cruel as Snow in that she won't send in mutts or whatever to kill a tribute simply for the sake of killing them. She only does that if they snap like, say, they start eating the bodies of those they've killed.  
And," he looks us all in the eye, "she is not wasteful." We all know this above all other things. People in the Districts—remember, Paylor lived in 8 before she became president—truly know what it means to appreciate what you have. And in this Games, for Paylor, it's a love story—Huck's and mine. And she cannot afford to waste it—much less be the one responsible for wasting it. No, she needs us. She needs to risk having two victors. She needs our love to live.  
We all sit, staring at the brilliant food laid before us, digesting what Huck just said. "Okay," I agree finally. Mom's crying. Dad's fishing around in his pocket for something. Finally he pulls out a bit of rope and hands it to Mom. She starts tying knot after knot. Tying them and untying them with practiced fingers. Dad's got that look on his face that he gets on those now rare occasions when he has trouble deciphering what's real and what isn't. Those are the times when we must resort to "Real or Not Real" to help him out. Sometimes, even still, he's not sure if he believes us or not.  
He puts a hand on Mom's. "Katniss?"  
"I'm alright…just…remembering. Are you…?"  
We all sit and watch as they delve into a game of Real or Not Real. We let them take their time. They begin with little things. "When I was young I fell in love with a girl named Katniss Everdeen."  
"Real," Mom says.  
"And you're her."  
"Real."  
"The first time we met, though we never spoke, you were nearly dead, out in the rain, searching through our garbage for food for you, your mother, and your little sister, Prim."  
"Real," Mom is beginning to calm down and regain her composure.  
"I purposely burnt the bread. My mother hit me and told me to take it to the pigs. I took the bread outside, but I threw it to you instead."  
"Real."  
On to the harder things. More difficult memories.  
"I initially sided with the Careers in our first Games? And I helped them find you?"  
"Not real, honey. You pretended to be on their side. To keep me safe. And you did."  
"Oh, yeah." He thinks a moment. "You didn't love me at first." At this, Mom starts crying again. This time though, they're silent tears filled with pain and guilt.  
Mom whispers, "Real. At least, I didn't think I did. I didn't want to love anyone. I shut it out. But I know that I did love you from the moment you tossed that burnt bread out to me in the rain. You saved our lives."  
"You…you love me."  
"Real."  
"I thought so," he pauses. "I love you too, Katniss. I got hijacked after our second Games was cut short, and I thought I hated you. You got taken to District 13 and became the Mockingjay."  
"Real."  
"Prim is…gone…lots of people are. Because of the rebellion."  
"Real…"  
Dad nods. Finished. He seems satisfied. "Okay. So, have we decided that we're going with the star-crossed lovers bit?"  
"It's not a 'bit', Dad," I say.  
Huck backs me up. "It's real." His hand is back on mine, this time they're on the table.  
"Okay, star-crossed lovers it is!" Haymitch exclaims. The whole table holds their breath as we can smell the strong scent of alcohol mixed with coffee and vomit rolling out of his mouth. Hopefully he's sobering up, but judging by what I see, it's a slow process.  
Effie claps her hands together. "Now, let's eat!" We all do as she says and try to keep up decent conversation. Fortunately, Effie takes the lead on most of this. In fact, we don't have to do much at all except for smile, nod, and occasional offer some vague response.  
Once we've finished eating we begin to say our goodnights to one another and Effie says, "Now, you two better stay in your own rooms! Your mother ended up pregnant during her second Hunger Games because of your father sleeping in her room!" Does Effie still not know that Mom's pregnancy was fake?  
I give Mom a quizzical look and she winks at me. "Yes, kids. That's how I ended up pregnant. But I just know that you two would never do that, now would you?"  
"Never," Huck and I say in unison, both of us grinning ear to ear. Dad walks over to Huck, puts a hand on his shoulder, and whispers something in his ear but they're too far away for me to be able to hear. "Night, honey."  
"Night, Dad. Night, Mom."  
"Night." Mom winks at me again.  
"Goodnight, Mr. and Mrs. Mellark."  
Mom and Dad laugh. "Goodnight, Huck."  
Everyone goes to their respective rooms. Even me. I sit on my bed for a while, processing. Tomorrow we will see all of the other tributes—all of the kids that Huck and I will be forced to murder. We will do our interviews that could either make or break us in the way of sponsors.  
A tear slips down my cheek and I wipe it quickly away when I hear a soft knock on my door. Huck follows. "Hey," he whispers.  
"Hey, Huck." I stare at the ground and he took a seat by me. My face turns hot as I feel his arm slide around my waist. He turns and kisses my cheek, then his forehead takes the place of his lips. "Huck…" I pull away and look at him, tears welling up in my eyes. I stand up and walk to the bathroom. He understands and follows shortly after.  
Once we're both safely inside with the door shut tight I melt into him and break down in a way that I never had before in front of anyone except Mom and Dad. "I can't do it!"  
Huck holds me close and strokes my hair. "Shh…I know…" I cry into his chest, soaking his shirt. My fingernails dig into the soft fabric. "You can and you will," he whispers. I suddenly realize that if we're not both allowed to win, he has no intention of making it out of the arena alive.  
I look up at him with angry, red, puffy eyes. "Don't you dare, Huck. Don't you dare!" I beat on his chest with my fists.  
He closes his eyes, furrowing his brow and shakes his head. "Atrell," he sighs, grabbing my arms. "If only one of us—"  
"No!" I scream as I shove him off of me, dropping to the floor facing away from him, standing on the balls of my feet. My fingers are entwined through my long, black hair.  
I feel his steady hand on my back and he whispers, "Atrell."  
"I cannot lose you. I can't. If you die, I swear to you I will follow close behind." I turn to look him in the eye so that he knows I'm serious. He sighs, looking dismayed, and nods assent. "Once we're in the arena, you're all I have left. If I can't leave with you, I won't leave at all. Not alive, at least."  
Huck sits down behind me and pulls me onto his lap. He runs his rough fingers through my hair and begins the sing The Hanging Tree. Grandpa taught it to Mom. Mom taught it to Dad. They taught it to me. I taught it to Huck. Never was the song more appropriate.  
By the time he's finished singing I'm beginning to drift. "Come on," he says quietly. "Bed time."All I can manage is a nod. He picks me up and carries me out to the bed, setting me on it. He rummages wordlessly through the drawers. "Big shirt?" For a moment I'm confused, and then I realize he's asking me if I want to wear a baggy t-shirt for pajamas. I nod. He grabs one, strips me down to my underwear, and slips it over my head. "Goodnight," he says and smiles. He pulls back the covers and tucks me in.  
After he kisses me goodnight he turns to leave. "Huck…"  
"Yeah, love?" he spins back around.  
"Stay with me…?"  
He seems relieved that I asked. "Of course. I'm gonna go change, then I'll be right in. I promise."  
I search his eyes; afraid that he'll leave and won't come back, counting on my falling asleep to cover for him, but instead I find sincerity. "Okay. I'll be awake."  
I must have dozed off because I suddenly find myself startled awake when the sheets on the other side of the bed stir. The room is already dark. Huck. He chuckles softly and scoots so close to me that we're touching. His body is curled around the back of my own. "I wasn't gone for more than a minute and you already fell asleep?" He kisses my ear, my neck, my shoulder. I feel a shudder travel down my spine. His breath echoes in my ear.  
"Sorry, I—"  
"Don't be, love." His arm curls around my waist and pulls me closer. He kisses my neck again, sending another shudder through my body. I can't help but feel embarrassed at how little resistance I have to his sensual touch. He laughs in my ear and hugs me tight.  
We both drift off to sleep, though his is more peaceful than mine. Perhaps he dreams too, but I dream about the arena.  
I'm in a tree. Way up at the top. I can see the whole arena from my perch. It's nothing but trees. Even the "Cornucopia" is made of a giant hollowed out tree trunk and not cornucopia shaped like usual. The tree gave advantage to those of us who could climb, while the cornucopia shape gave advantage to those closest to its mouth.  
In one hand I have a bow, just like the one I use at home, with a sheath of arrows on my back. Silver. In the other hand I hold a knife about the length of my forearm.  
BOOM! I hear a series of cannon shots signaling the initial death toll from the bloodbath at the cornucopia. I try to count them but I can't seem to. I'm suddenly very aware that I am not in control of my actions as I jump down and begin to run.  
My instincts are telling me to stop; that I'm far enough away from everyone else that what I need to do right now is find water and hunt. But, no. My legs just keep running. The worst part is that they're making me run toward everyone else—toward conflict. I try to force them to stop. They don't listen. It's as though a career has taken over my brain, leaving just enough room for my conscious mind to make its desperate pleas.  
I'm running and running, for probably a mile or more then I see something and stop. There's movement in the bushes ahead of me. I quickly draw my bow, ready to strike if necessary. The figure emerges and at first, they are no more than a shadow. Slowly it…he…comes into focus. It's Huck! Thank God! Before I have time to remember that I'm not in control of my actions I release the arrow. It lodges in his eye and he falls to the ground. Dead. Same shot as I make at home when I hunt. I am the victor of the 95th Hunger Games.  
I wake up screaming; tears are streaming from my eyes and I am thrashing about in bed. Huck grabs me and pins me to his body, trying to calm me. "Shh…it's okay, it's okay. It was just a nightmare. You're safe, Atrell. You're safe, right here in my arms. I won't let you go. Never. I promise. It's okay." His voice is soft but firm but it still takes me a while to calm down.  
"Y-you…" I gasp for air, "You died! I-I-I couldn't," another gasp, "I couldn't stop my-myself!" I'm sobbing into his chest for a good hour or so, trying to explain the dream that was the source of my hysteria.  
"It's okay, Atrell. I'm alive. We're both alive. And that's not going to happen. Ever. We will both win this. Neither of us will die." He strokes my hair and speaks these soothing words and I eventually cry myself out. Slowly slipping off to sleep, Huck lays me back down, cradled in his strong arms. I memorize the feel of him as I drift off. Thin, lean, but heavily muscled. His slow, rhythmic breathing and heartbeat in sync with my own. Calm ocean waves crashing in and out with the tide. Everything about our two bodies becomes one. We are the same. We are one being. Together, nothing can stop us. Not even the capitol.


End file.
